


Bonjour, mon amour

by Squid_Ink



Series: The Fiery Templar and the Fearless Assassin [23]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: But whatever, F/M, Not my best, not expecting anything out of this anyway, not sure why I'm posting it here, request of sorts from tumblr, uuuuuuuuughhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 17:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13641219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: Arno and Elise's morning routine.





	Bonjour, mon amour

**Author's Note:**

> Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft

The sweet smell of petrichor filled her nose, birds sang sweetly in the garden and golden beams of early sunlight poured through the window. The rain had washed away most of the sewage that had collected in the streets, allowing the floral scent of the new flowers to drift in. People started heading to market, and the sounds of stalls setting up could be heard. Below, the café began to buzz with people coming in for breakfast.

Élise yawned, stretching and running a hand through her lose hair. Beside her Arno slept, long strains of his dark hair falling over his face, fluttering with each exhale. The blanket had fallen to his hip. He had a late night; coming home from a mission and then she insisted he make up for the time he was gone. Quietly, she slipped from bed, pulling on his discarded shirt and breeches and went to get some tea. She glanced back once more to watch Arno snuggle into the warm spot she had left behind. He mumbled in his sleep but didn't wake. She smiled, and left.

She returned a few minutes later, Arno still soundly asleep, and she shucked his breeches before she slipped back into bed. The tea was warm in her hands, and the twitter of birds pleasing to her ears. She loved the quiet early mornings, everything felt hopeful during this period. She took a sip, savoring the sweetness of vanilla. People didn't drink tea these days, too associated with the disposed aristocratic class. Yet, Arno would indulge her almost anything and his connections via the Assassins allowed him to import tea from Britain. She watched him sleep. He scratched his back near some scabs from an injury he acquired a few days ago.

Grinning, she pulled up her foot and ran her toes along his rump. He grunted, inching away. She giggled, poking him again with her foot, but this time in his calf. He inched away from her a bit more. She grinned, finishing her tea and setting it down. "Arno," she whispered, running her fingers lightly along his side. "Arno, wakey wakey," she cooed. "Time to get up."

He grumbled, pushing her way and pulling the blanket up over his shoulder. She laughed, clapping her hands and leaned over him again. "Come on, wakey wakey, the sun's shining it's going to be a nice day." She kissed him behind his ear. He grumbled, waving at her as if she was an irritating fly. She bounced on her knees, mirth bubbling up out of her. She poked him again, cooing at him to rise from his slumber. She squeaked when he reached out to grab her, jumping back, laughing and pushing her hair out of her eyes. She watched his hand, fingers drumming against the mattress. He was watching her from behind his hair, one eye open, calculating how he'll catch. "Come on, wake up," she said, inching closer and giving his shoulder a shove.

He reached for her, but she scooted back, sticking her tongue out. This was too much fun. "I'm going to catch you," he said, more or less awake now. "You know that right?"

"I'd like to see you try,  _Assassin_ ," she teased, only to laugh when he huffed. "You're so cranky in the morning."

"I haven't had my coffee," he said, his hand inching closer to her leg. "Plus I had a late night, forgive me if I want some sleep."

"You need to stop being such a grouch," she teased, poking him in the chest. She heard him tsk, which caused her to giggle. "Wakey wake—" she yelped as he lunged, his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her close, nuzzling her neck, his other arm looping around her shoulders to keep her pinned to his chest.

"Caught ya"— he kissed her cheek — " _Templar_." He purred into her ear. She shuddered, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

"You got lucky," she said, scrunching up her nose cutely. He patted her head.

"Now, go back to sleep."

"No."

"Yes."

"No." She tickled him, and he sucked in his stomach reflexively. She grinned, squirming free once his grip had slackened. She got out of bed, standing in the middle of the room. "How are you going to catch me now, Arno?"

"You're being a tease." She winked in reply. "You'll be the death of me woman," he said as he got out of bed, pulling on his breeches.

"It'll be a good death then." She batted her lashes. She rocked on the balls of her feet, hands behind her back. He stalked closer to her. The light brightened his pale skin, she could see the contours of his muscles beneath the downy chest hair. His shoulders large and broad from years of climbing Paris's tallest buildings, thighs lean and strong from jumping from one rooftop to another. He moved with the poise and grace of a jungle cat, the intensity of an eagle. It made her pulse quicken, her mouth dry, her legs weak and her loins ache. He tucked some hair behind his ear.

"Are you wearing my shirt?" he asked, giving her a bemused smile.

"And if I am?" she asked, fiddling with a button. She bit her lower lip, a come-hither look sparkled in her eyes.

"I want my shirt back," he said, folding his arms over his chest. She smirked when he licked his lips. He wanted her, she could see it in his eyes, how they smoldered.

"You're not getting it back," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. She couldn't resist taunting him. It made submitting to him that much sweeter. He chuckled.

"Is that a challenge?"

"What if it is? What are you going to do?" she asked, closing the gap between them. He pursed his lips together, bent his knees and looped his arm around her waist, slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She squeaked, half in protest and half in mirth. "Arno Victor Dorian! You put me down right now!" she said, thumping her fists against his back.

"I don't think I will," he said and gave her exposed bottom a firm smack. "Besides, I'm taking back what's mine." He tossed her onto the bed, prowling over to her. She looked at him as he pinned her wrists above her head. He kissed her, pressing his hips against hers and she moaned.

"I thought you needed your morning coffee," she said, a smug smile on her face. He hummed, kissing her neck.

"Coffee can wait."


End file.
